Chapter 1A Chapter by JannaOnce people find out, they always assume
that something traumatic must have happened. They ask questions about my
childhood, or just assume that someone or something must have scarred me as a
kid, really messed me up to make me this way. All that is usually followed by a pitying glance. Sometimes I get
lucky and its just a judgemental glare, those I can handle - they’re easier
than the ones that think they can help you, or the ones that feel sorry for you.
I guess I can’t blame them…the word DISORDER does mean I’m broken. Like I’m out
of order, tangled, a mess. I am a mess. The pills help most of the time, but the
thought of popping pills in order to have some semblance of normalcy probably
scares people too. They don’t realize that those capsules are what save my
life. Every. Single. Day. They keep me going. But to them… to them I’m just
unstable. And sometimes I am just that, unstable - uncomfortable in my own
head, in my own skin. © 2016 JannaAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on December 6, 2016 Last Updated on December 6, 2016 Author
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